


selfless

by aMassiveDisappointment (BadOldWest)



Series: nicest men in the galaxy [3]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Baze and Chirrut teach the younguns how it's done, F/M, M/M, less dirty than my usual stuff, space dads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 01:18:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11002986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadOldWest/pseuds/aMassiveDisappointment
Summary: "She watches Baze’s hand drift over Chirrut’s shoulder in a gruff, affection gesture.Maybe this is what she wants. Loving hands doing something not because you couldn’t, but because it was nice to have someone else take care of it."Observing a moment of intimacy between Chirrut and Baze is what Jyn needs to be frank with Cassian.





	selfless

“The door was open, so I’ll assume you two aren’t fu- _ -oh,”  _ Jyn stills at the edge of Baze and Chirrut’s shared bunk, hand frozen on the doorframe. 

Baze is standing over Chirrut, just outside the refresher, wiping a straight razor down with a damp cloth. Chirrut is seated on a chair, pulled close, waiting patiently for the blade to move across his cheek. Baze kneels next to him, poises the razor.

“Hello, little sister,” he says in a nonchalant manner. Chirrut’s face barely moves, but it’s probably from the blade pressed to his skin. He imparts his smile in more of an aura, warming Jyn where she stands. 

“Sorry,” Jyn says, feeling as though she’s interrupting something intimate, despite Chirrut only having removed his robes to his waist and Baze being fully clothed. She doesn’t know why she feels scandalized, she’s barged into their room in various states of unclothed, and even now she’s wearing tiny sleeping shorts and one of Cassian’s stolen shirts. 

“Is something wrong?” the monk says, furrowing his brow, “She sounds embarrassed.”

Baze raises the razor a safe proximity away from Chirrut. 

“I just… how often do you do that?”

Baze raises his eyebrows, resuming his work. Nonplussed. “He certainly can’t do it himself.”

“I could if I wanted to,” Chirrut closes his eyes at Baze’s defiant ‘ **_ha’_ ** , “your hands are only gentle when you’re doing this. What’s troubling you, Jyn?”

_ Cassian  _ is the beat so obviously following the question that she almost feels like she said it out loud, even though she didn’t yet. 

Jyn lifts herself to sit on the sink counter, legs dangling down. Her eyes flicker around, sheepish. She doesn’t see Baze squeeze Chirrut’s shoulder, a practised,  _ they’re at it again. _ Her feet swing back and forth.

“It’s Cassian. He’s late, and I felt like an ass for waiting for him. So maybe I won’t be there when he gets back.”

Chirrut  _ tssked _ her. “I’m sure he’s working. Maybe go to his meeting to escort him back to your room, if you’re so impatient.”

_“No,_ don’t do that,” Baze chides, barely glancing up from the razor. _Chirrut has a point,_ Jyn thinks, _his hands are very gentle when he does this._

“I always rush back to him. I’m tired of being the only who cares about how little time we have together.”

“It just feels that way now, wait until you two have twenty years behind you.”

“In this war, who knows?” Jyn says, her voice feigning flippancy, but there’s a break behind her eyes and and a crack in her words. Chirrut’s hand lands on her knee, Baze sets his eyes on her, lowering the razor. The leg that isn’t being touched lifts its foot to the counter, her knee settling under her chin. She clacks her teeth together, looking childish and small in the light of the ‘fresher. 

“Does he know you feel this way?” Baze reasons. 

She stares at her toes. “I’ve told him he wastes my time.”

“Have you told him  _ why _ that means so much?”

Jyn buries her face in her hands, groaning. “I shouldn’t have to explain myself  _ all the time.” _

“I hope I never sounded like that,” Baze quips dryly to his partner, who smirks. 

“You did,” Chirrut says with a reminiscent smile. 

Jyn and Cassian’s relationship is the subject of frequent talks in this room, Jyn only a participant half as much as the subject comes up. They view the scene the opposite way she does; she arrives convinced that their relationship is the problem, Baze and Chirrut gently shepherd her to the begrudging belief that their relationship is a solution. 

Neither Cassian or Jyn are as universally reckless as Chirrut, but when one of them often is, the other is reasonable. Neither are capable of being the responsible one all the time, but they are when the other needs it, like Baze. 

“Don’t waste  _ his _ time, Jyn. Maybe he doesn’t feel like putting in that time when you don’t use your words.”

Jyn growls at them, ready to snap something bitter. But Baze has resumed his task.

He rubs the cloth across Chirrut’s jaw, following the natural contour of his face. He does a good job despite Chirrut’s cheeks twitching as he wipes off the stray hairs. When he’s done, his hand cups his partner at the nape of the neck. The smile on his face is unseen, but still shared. 

“Keep it neat,” Chirrut orders primly. 

_ “I know,” _ Baze sighs, shaking his head.

_ This _ is intimacy. Jyn’s heart stammers a moment. She is lost in speechlessness. She feels like she shouldn’t be watching, but thankful that she is. 

“Maybe he can’t give you what you want until you ask him for it.” Chirrut reasons with a knowing smile. Jyn never thought to ask. She flushes at the idea, because there’s the idea of rejection. 

“If Cassian asked something of you, would you listen to him?”

“Honestly you two, I’m not a monster,” she grumbles stoutly. 

“Then trust him to do the same for you.”

Jyn chews her thumbnail, looking slightly crestfallen. What has she wanted, all this time, from Cassian? She would sneer if he shirked his Captain's responsibilities, the rebellion, the sake of the galaxy; throwing it at her feet in a grand gesture of romance. He would cease to be the person she cared about, if that was the case. They both knew it. 

She watches Baze’s hand drift over Chirrut’s shoulder in a gruff, affection gesture. 

Maybe  _ this _ is what she wants. Loving hands doing something not because you couldn’t, but because it was nice to have someone else take care of it. Her and Cassian’s distance was only the petty squabbling of a few day’s resentment; they pull their emotions inside themselves. Starting with Cassian’s exhaustion, then Jyn’s disappointment, melting into Cassian’s guilt, and Jyn’s bitterness at that guilt. A cycle forms.

She smiles at her friends, who wordlessly began to fuss over each other as she was lost in thought. 

“You look handsome, Chirrut.”

The monk smiles at her. 

“Now when is Chirrut going to do you next, Baze?”

Baze scoffs, tossing the towel into the sink next to her. 

“I could do it,” Chirrut insists. 

_ “No.” _ Baze laughs as he says it. 

Jyn hops down from the sink. They look ready for some privacy. 

Jyn returns to Cassian’s room, the room she is expected to be. 

He’s back, pathetically snuggled in bed, without her. 

Cassian tenses at the light spilled across the room from the door opening, can’t even pretend he was asleep. He does look tired. Overworked. 

“I’m late,” she says, by way of apology, climbing into bed behind him. She pulls his body close, snuggling her face into his hair. One hand wraps around him, tangling her fingers with his, pulled tight to his chest.

Her body is open, ready. Cassian’s head spins, because he’s so used to her withdrawing over his lateness. He’s seen her, from a distance, waiting when she doesn’t know he sees. At meals, at rendezvous points, moments when the door slides open. When he couldn’t get there any faster. She always fidgets like the child who was left behind. The guilt has sat in his gut with a raw ache to come back to an empty bed, and he knows exactly why it was empty. 

He sighs, furrowing his brow. Now he’s just  _ tired.  _

“I said I might be late because of some complications in planning the base relocation.”

A returning sign runs from the nape of his neck to the line of his back. His shoulders tense at the cool air tickling him. 

“I know.”

“You  _ left.” _

“I came back.”

“And want to cuddle up now, when I had gotten all ready to go to sleep, alone.”

“I was with Baze and Chirrut to blow off some steam. Can you not be so jealous? You’re like a wife sometimes,” her voice is casual when she says it, her arms squeezing him affectionately. The tone of her voice keeps unsettling him. 

“You’re not mad,” he observes in a flat tone.

“You work so hard,” she says, which isn’t quite a denial. 

“So do you. What’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I was late, you walked out, and you’re acting like everything’s fine.”

“We haven’t done anything to each other the other person hasn’t done tonight, alright? Nobody gets to be mad.”

_ “Jyn,” _ Cassian’s voice is cautious, “I know this usually upsets you.”

“I just,” Jyn sighs again, her head ducks down to press her face between his shoulderblades, “I just don’t want to be upset tonight, okay? Can we do that?”

He finally turns over, pulling her to lay over his body. He tangles his hand in the hair at the base of her skull. 

“Of course,” and his body releases all tension with an open, knowing look. 

“Hey,” she snuggles closer, tucking her head under his chin. 

“Hey,” he replies, “What did you talk about? With Baze. And Chirrut.”

“Using my words,” she mumbles against his throat. 

He strokes his free hand up and down her back. “You’re so good at it.”

“I’ve done some great things with my words.”

“Wonders.”

“I’m a great orator.”

“That’s one way to put your oral-”

She elbows him, jamming the bone threateningly into his side as she leans up to laugh in his face. He smirks. 

“You like when I use my words,” she dips down to kiss his brow, then lower to tuck her lips against his ear, “I faintly recall someone not letting me off the hook last night until I used them, in excruciating detail, to say what I needed from that mouth of yours.”

His head tips upwards to kiss her, and she accepts it, hand cupping his face. 

“ _ ‘Fuck me like you want to impress me’ _ was pretty good.”

She returns his kiss with a soft smile. 

“I’m planning on using it again soon.”

He plays with the ends of her hair, eyes faraway and relaxed. She loves that smile on him. 

“How’d you learn to use your words tonight?”

His hands settle on her hips. Jyn’s fingers dance against his sternum, pondering.

“I just feel like there’s not enough time for us. That’s why I’ve been angry with you. I resent you for giving me something that I may lose. And when it could end at any time…”

His finger traces her worried brow. He swallows thickly. “I don’t want to do that to you.”

She presses her brow to his. “But not having you would be worse. So that’s never a conclusion we’re going to jump to, got it?”

Her knees crawl up closer to his ribcage to ground herself over him. 

“Understood,” he gasps, hands running over her body as the intensity of their beating hearts gives way to delirious pleasure. At least, they pretend those two things aren’t as closely tied at they clearly are. 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, to anyone following finely laid plans I promise I will update that next I know I'm slacking off on it. Thank you for all the lovely comments!!


End file.
